Red Crazed Vase
by melraemorgan
Summary: Patrick Jane is in trouble,can he overcome it?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first attempt at a Mentalist fic. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist.

Every day was a performance for Patrick Jane. Lisbon, only guessed at what it took for him to come into work sometimes. She knew he didn't sleep, she knew he had once been fragile, and in a mental health facility. She knew he had lost everything but his fanatical desire to kill Red John. What she didn't know is that every smile was a torture, that some days he had to fight to keep from killing himself that he couldn't let himself feel anything…Feel anything but cold hatred, and rage. Still he managed to come into the CBI office every day, managed to solve cases with his colleagues. Managed to hide just how screwed up he was. Until the other day when that woman…that woman had killed Bosco's team, had poisoned herself, had taunted him, had let Red John touch them even here in the safety of the CBI headquarters. He left CBI late and alone like always. He stopped and bought several bottles of bourbon, and drank almost two of them before he finally passed out. That on top of the tequila they had drunk in the office had pushed him into an alcohol poisoning induced coma, no one knew he was at home, dying from a bender.

He lie there on his mattress as the bloody smiley face mocked him, lay there dying, he didn't care anymore. Red John had won; he was no match for him. He couldn't stand the thought of Red John hurting any more people because of him. He was in and out of consciousness, he remembered crawling to the bathroom to retch, and then back to the mattress to pass out for good. Then someone was there, shaking him, calling his name. Jane groaned, "Leave me alone…Dammit" his words an angry slur. The voice said "Not gonna happen pal." and kept shaking him awake, he felt something cold and wet on his face, shocking him awake. "What the …?" Jane opened his sticky eyes, and saw the blurry face of Kimball Cho standing over him.

Cho had watched Jane closely, he always watched him closely. He knew Jane was shaken by what had happened, knew that he would never admit it to anyone. Cho knew Patrick Jane's greatest charade was the one he played on himself. The illusion he created that he didn't need anything but his revenge, that he was an island, and couldn't be reached by normal human emotion. Cho understood this because he was often guilty of the same thing. He wore his enigma like a suit of armor. So , after the team toasted their fallen comrades, he watched Jane head home, followed him as he bought copious amounts of booze. Once Jane was home safely, Cho left him and went home, to get drunk himself.

When he arrived at CBI the next morning and Jane wasn't there he wasn't too concerned, but as time went on and Lisbon remarked "Where the hell is Jane? We have a case." Cho began to be worried.

"Boss, I'll go to his place and get him, he probably overslept." Cho answered her query. Lisbon looked at him curiously but said "Okay, but hurry up."

Cho got to Jane's house in minutes. The door was unlocked, 'Jane of all people should know better 'Cho thought.

"Jane? JANE?" he called. No answer.

Cho ran up the stairs afraid of what he would find. He knew that Jane was obsessed but he flinched when he saw the bloody reminder of that obsession still on the wall. Jane was lying half on the mattress still wearing the clothes he had on yesterday. There was an empty bottle of Southern Comfort next to him, and half-full one gripped tightly in his hand. His breathing was slow and shallow, he was pale as a ghost and a sheen of sweat covered him. He looked like hell, and he was not doing well. Cho reached down to feel his pulse it was thread, and weak. His breathing was slowing down, he was about to go into respiratory arrest. "Dammit Jane, JANE! Wake up!" Jane fought him a bit but he was too weak to cause a problem. He ran to the bathroom an wet a hand towel; he began wiping Jane's face with it, telling him to wake up. Jane fought him for a minute, but then slipped back into unconsciousness. 'Damn, now I have to call the EMT's' He had hoped to spare Jane the ordeal, but he now had no choice. He reached into his pocket for his phone and called 911.

"911 operator what is the nature of your emergency?" A nasally voice asked.

"Yeah, this is officer Cho of the CBI, I need an ambulance, possible alcohol poisoning. The subject is male in his late thirties, unconscious; pulse is weak, respirations slow…hurry!"

"Officer Cho an ambulance will be there in five minutes, keep trying to wake him." The voice told him urgently.

When the EMT's got there Jane was starting to seize, Cho tried to keep him from hurting himself, but the seizure was quite violent. One of Jane's hands flung out and hit Cho in the face. 'Great he would have a bruise' he thought.

The EMT's were afraid to give him anything for the seizure, but they bagged him and restrained him on the gurney. Cho rode with them to the hospital. Jane's heart stopped once on the way there, they had to shock him twice to get it going again. When they got to the hospital, they rushed Jane back to the ER trauma room. One of the nurses started asking Cho a bunch of questions like "Did he take anything else?" and "Did he do this on purpose?" Cho couldn't answer. He knew Jane had used sleeping pills before, but he hadn't seen any in the bedroom. He heard someone yell," he's crashing again!" and the sound of the defibrillator shocking Jane's heart back into rhythm. Just as Cho was about to run out of there he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It was Lisbon… 'Crap, what am I going to tell her?'

"Cho." He answered.

"Cho where the hell are you and Jane? We have a case!" Lisbon yelled.

"Boss, Jane isn't feeling well. He won't be in today." 'maybe not any day' Cho thought.

"What do you mean? He's got the sniffles?" Lisbon's tone sounded dangerously curious.

"I think it's the flu" Cho said quickly.

"Okay, well you get your ass here in a hurry." She quipped.

Cho thought ' Whew, she didn't get it out of me' just as he was about to hang up, Lisbon said "Cho, he's all right isn't he?" her tone blew away any hope he had of hiding this from her and he said "No, boss he's not okay."

Lisbon's face paled at something Cho had said to her. Grace said "What? What's wrong?"

Lisbon hung up and told Rigsby "Go tell Minnelli to assign someone else this case. I have to go."

Grace looked at her visibly shaken boss, and said, "It's Jane isn't it? What happened? Where is he?"

Lisbon answered her softly "He's at Sacramento General dying from alcohol poisoning." Of all the stupid ways for Jane to die that was perhaps the stupidest. He knew how she felt about alcoholism, how she had lost her parents to it.

Grace walked over to her boss and put her hand on her shoulder. She said to her "Come on boss, let's go see him." She shot Rigsby a warning glance as he ambled into the room. He picked up the keys to the Yukon and said, "I'll meet you out front."

Grace pulled Lisbon along by the hand and led her to the car." Take us to Sacramento General she told Rigsby.

By the time they got to the hospital Jane had, had two more seizures, but his heart rate was better. The ER doc asked Cho again if Jane had done this on purpose. Cho shook his head no. Lisbon, Van Pelt and Rigsby, walked over just as the doctor was asking. Lisbon looked at Cho and knew he was lying but didn't say anything to the doctor.

The doctor said "We need to put him in ICU for awhile, to make sure his liver and kidneys are okay, and that he doesn't have any more seizures. We had to intubate him because he quit breathing on his own. Basically, he is in a coma right now. He drank so much he nearly succeeded in killing himself. Whether it was on purpose or not, he has a problem and we need a psych consult."

At that Lisbon's eyes narrowed, and she said "He does NOT need a psych consult! He just drank too much. He doesn't usually drink, that's all. It was an accident." The doctor eyed her suspiciously.

"Ma'am I am not sure who you are to , but his records are on file at this hospital, we are well aware of his history of mental illness and the reasons for it. So I find this unlikely to be an accident."

Lisbon hissed "You don't know anything about him! He is a consultant for the CBI and perfectly sane! This was just an accident!"

Cho, VanPelt , and Rigsby exchanged nervous glances as their boss and the doctor had their showdown.

"Whatever the case, won't be going anywhere for quite some time, he will be in the ICU for at least a week, and then in step-down care until we are sure there is no permanent neurological damage."

The hallway grew silent as the words "permanent neurological damage" echoed in their heads.

VanPelt broke the silence and asked the doctor "Can we see him?"

"You can visit him two at a time after he gets settled in his room, which should be in an hour or so. However, please do not get him upset. He may be in a coma but it is a light one and he may hear everything you say."

Lisbon nodded at the doctor as if to dismiss him, he sighed and walked away.

Lisbon turned to Cho and with a cold glare asked him "What the hell happened Cho?"

Cho stared at his feet for a minute. "I found him passed out in his room, he had drunk a lot of bourbon. About one and half bottles." Rigsby whistled at that. "Anyway, I couldn't wake him up and he stopped breathing. So I called 911."

Cho finished what he was saying and stared at Lisbon expectantly. She said "You knew something was wrong, didn't you?"

Cho shook his head. She answered his nod through gritted teeth. "Then why the hell didn't you say something? We are supposed to be a team dammit!"

"I knew he was upset about the Red John thing and Bosco and his team, but I just figured he was going to get drunk and that would be it. Hell that's what I did. I didn't know he was going to do this."

Lisbon softened "I know Cho we were all upset, and probably all of us got drunk last night. It's not your fault, I'm just mad I didn't see it sooner."


	2. Chapter 2

Red Crazed Vase Chapter Two:

Patrick Jane was walking on air, he felt no pain, he was happy. He saw his daughter playing in the sand, and held his beautiful wife's hand in his. The warm ocean breeze blew his perfect blonde curls into a halo around his smiling face. He looked like an angel. He couldn't remember ever being this happy, but he was enjoying every minute of it…

Until, he heard someone say his name. "Jane, Jane it's me Lisbon."

The voice made him happy and sad all at the same time, he didn't like the way it felt. Hearing it made the sunny day around him darken with clouds.

He heard something else, a beeping sound that got quicker and quicker. He looked up and his daughter was running away from the storm, he felt his wife's hand slip out of his as she ran after. He couldn't move.

"Wait! Please!"

He struggled to move again, but still he couldn't, his arms and legs were made of lead.

"Please don't leave me!" he called to them. He saw them stop and turn. They smiled and waved good-bye, and ran away.

They were gone. And the storm began raging all around him. He was so angry, so sad.

He heard more voices "He's waking up!" and then another. "Stand back Ms. Lisbon"

Lisbon? Teresa…My friend? His head felt like it was wrapped in wool. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't. He started to fall back down into his dream, into the storm.

When he felt someone poke his sternum…it hurt… "Owww" he whispered.

"Mr. Jane? Mr. Jane can you hear me? Wake up Mr. Jane."

The knuckles jabbed his sternum again. That just pissed him off.

"OW! Dammit! Quit doing that!"

His eyes flew open and he looked around the room. He saw Cho, Lisbon, and some doctor standing by his hospital bed. Lisbon had a smirk on her face, and Cho as usual was inscrutable.

The doctor guy said

"Good to have you back Mr. Jane. You had us scared, for awhile there."

Jane looked at the nametag 'Dr. Williamson'. 'Great, wasn't that the guy who was here when the cops had brought him in five years ago.'

"Dr. Willamson? I believe we've met." Jane beamed his best charmer smile, at him.

Williamson couldn't believe Jane remembered.

"Uhh yes, I am surprised you remembered."

"Well doctor, you were kind to me in a, shall we say, difficult situation." He beamed away.

"Well this time Mr. Jane is not any less difficult I'm afraid. You nearly died, we had to resuscitate you on three separate occasions and use the defibrillator, you also had to be intubated, and you had several seizures." The doctor's tone had an angry edge to it.

"Thank you doctor for saving my life, I am sorry to have caused you so much trouble. I assure you that was not my intention." Jane's voice was like silk.

"Yes, well, about that, Mr. Jane, Just what exactly ,was your intention? To drink an entire fifth and a half of bourbon? Surely you realize the danger in excessive alcohol consumption?" Doctor Williamson was no fool, and he had matured into a very good doctor in the past five years. It wasn't going to be easy to lie.

"Jane, tell him it was an accident so we can get you out of here." Lisbon said vehemently.

"Ms. Lisbon, I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to wait in the hall. Mr. Jane and I need to have a private discussion." Lisbon sputtered in disbelief, but Cho led her by the arm out of the ICU.

Jane sized Williamson up. He knew what was coming. He was ready.

The doctor pulled his rolling stool next to Jane's bed, and leaned against the rail to write in his chart.

"Now, Patrick; Do you mind if I call you Patrick?" Jane assented.

"Good, Patrick, you and I both know you intentionally drank enough to kill yourself, we also found traces of barbiturates in your blood. Given your history, it is the only logical conclusion I could make. So the question is, what shall I do with this information? I could Baker Act you and put you on a seventy two-hour hold, or I can let you go and forget this ever happened. Which one of those options do you think I will choose?"

There was something cold in his eyes. Jane needed to tread lightly. This was not a man to trifle with. "Well, I prefer we choose the latter." He smiled at him.

"I'm sure you would, but I cannot, do that in good conscience."

"Yes, well I figured you would say that. I am a psychic you know." He quipped.

Williamson smiled, Jane was such a charmer, "Perhaps, there is a third alternative…"

Here it comes, Jane thought. He knew this is what the doctor wanted all along. He decided to let him think he was having his way.

"A third alternative? What would that be?"

"Well, if you agree to be in outpatient day therapy for ninety days, we could let you go home."

Ninety days? "That isn't possible, I'm sorry. I have to help the CBI. They need me."

"Patrick,you need put your needs ahead of the CBI, you are not stable, you tried to kill yourself." Williamson exhaled, in frustration.

"I assure you Dr. Williamson I did not try to kill myself; I simply drank too much, forgot, and took my sleeping pills with the alcohol. I am not much of a drinker usually, that, is why I didn't notice. Now, what do I have to do to convince you, to let me out of here?" Jane used his best 'do what I want' voice.

"Okay, let's not beat around the bush anymore, you have to agree to going to a therapist once a week, for no less than six months. You can choose the therapist but I am not letting you go until I have a confirmed appointment." Williamson threw down the gauntlet.

Jane thought for a moment, 'once a week… that was doable'. It was a pain, but he could handle it. He waited a moment giving the silence its full weight.

"Okay, I'll do it."

"I am glad, Patrick , I think you made the right choice. Now you have a few more days here, as we monitor your neurological status. While you were out, we gave you a couple of dialysis sessions, to protect your kidneys, so we'll have to remove the line we put in, your liver enzymes were way up, but they seem to be coming down now, hopefully there is no permanent damage. However, you will need to follow up with more blood work later just to be sure, and for God's sake do not drink anymore!" Williamson looked at the chart again and continued.

"You haven't had a seizure in a couple of days so I think you are out of the woods with that. But we are keeping you here for an new EEG tomorrow, just in case."

Jane was a bit overwhelmed with the barrage of information, but he didn't let it show. Nevertheless, the effort was taking its toll. "Okay, doctor, I get the picture I screwed up. Can we talk about this later? I am tired."It came out in almost a whisper.

"Sure, I'll talk to you tomorrow morning. Get some sleep." with that, Williamson left.

Jane wasn't really asleep when Lisbon and Cho came back in his room, but he was too tired to open his eyes, he heard Lisbon whisper.

"Don't you_ ever_ do that to me again Jane…"


	3. Chapter 3

The words Rebecca said to him had been on an endless loop in his head for days, he knew it was exactly what Red John wanted, but he couldn't help but feel tremendous guilt for the death of four more people. Six… Jane was directly, responsible for the deaths of six people. Chief among them his own wife and child. He'd gone crazy once before, but he didn't have that luxury now. Jane had to catch Red John and kill him; inflicting as much pain on the evil bastard as he possibly could before he died… and preferably before Lisbon could make good on her promise to stop him. The trick was going to be investigating the case with the team without them catching on that Jane was hiding bits of information for himself. They knew him a little too well now, and might pick up on something, Jane had to keep his mask in place.

Three days later and Williamson finally discharged Jane. He was more than ready to get out of this damn hospital; he was tired of being poked and prodded, and scrutinized under a psychiatric microscope. Jane had nothing but time to consider the hole he'd dug for himself with Lisbon. He knew exactly what her reaction would be; she was going to rant and rave at him in her 'I am a cop and you are not 'way. He often found it amusing but he wasn't up for it just now. That was why he asked Cho to pick him up instead. Cho was a man of few words and Jane could use a little silence.

Cho picked him up at the front of the Hospital in his sedan instead of one of the Suburbans. Jane took this subtle cue to mean that this was personal for Cho, and he was beginning to regret his decision. At first Cho just gave his usual penetrating stare laced with mild disdain. But as the ride progressed Jane knew Cho was going to let him have it.

"You're an ass." Cho said.

"…"

"So now, you shut up?"

"No, I just assumed there was more you wanted to say."

"Ass."

"…"

"Jane, you are insufferably arrogant, and impulsive, and often you are a childish jerk. But I never thought you were stupid ,until now."

Jane thought for a moment and said "Yes, Cho I was stupid. You may have noticed, being a detective and all that I don't drink. Yes, I will accept a drink but I will not actually, drink it. Do you know why that is?"

Cho , stared out at the red light they were sitting at as if he hadn't heard what Jane said. "Don't care."

Jane smiled as if he thought Cho's reply was humorous but in reality, he was taken aback.

"Well, Cho I will tell you exactly why. I never want to be out of control, on the chance that I will miss some clue to finding Red John." This wasn't the whole truth but Patrick Jane didn't give certain secrets away to anyone.

"So?"

"So agent Cho I made a huge fool of myself and wasted a week's time simply because I drank myself into oblivion. Well almost oblivion." He shrugged "And that, agent Cho, is why you are right. I have been a stupid ass."

"Don't do it again."

"I won't I assure you."

"Good. Hungry?"

Jane smiled, Cho had forgiven him, well as close to forgiving, as he would ever get. "Yes, I'm starving…Drive thru?"

Cho nodded.

Jane sat back and enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the wait, but hang in there with me because things might get interesting.

Thanks for those great reviews, they mean everything. I want to here whatever you have to say, so don't hold back. This is about learning to be a better writer and I take that very seriously.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Mentalist

* * *

Patrick Jane sat in his huge empty house, reading the files he had stolen from Bosco's office. Bosco's murder by Rebecca , had given Jane even more fervor to find Red John. He had trouble sleeping before, now he was living in a hellish state somewhere between utter exhaustion and lucidity. He had read these damn files over and over, so much so, he was beginning to memorize every dotted i every period and comma. It didn't help his sleep situation either, how could anyone be expected to sleep after reading these things, and looking at the horrific crime scene photos.

Jane had been out of the hospital for three days, in the morning he would be seeing the shrink. He decided to pick the one with best education, perhaps it was a conceit but he wouldn't want to waste his time sparring with an unworthy opponent. The doctor's name was Schien, Thomas Schien, he had attended Johns Hopkins , and held both an M.D. and a PhD. in psychology. He had read on the internet a paper he had written and determined Schien's approach was cognitive behavioral. He also found that his practice was open to everyone , he didn't seem to have a subspecialty. The only problem was how would he keep his sleep deficit hidden from him, he didn't want any interference, like oh say, another hospitalization.

He was right about Lisbon. She let him have it. It seemed the raving storm of her ire had abated for now, but he was on notice that she would be watching him.

While he was in the hospital Minnelli had really left, they had his retirement party and everything. This gave Jane a little twinge of disappointment. But the real concern brewing in his convoluted mind was who would take Virgil's place? Moreover, would they be as malleable? Amenable? The last thing he wanted was another person standing hawkishly over his shoulder.

A look at his watch told him he should at least try to sleep, so he wouldn't look quite like road kill for his first appointment. Schein was sent his file from Williamson, hopefully it would speed things along a bit. Still, the first appointment is the "assessment" and those usually lasted at least an hour.

Jane put the file back in the box and carried it up the stairs to his grisly nest. He kept it with him at all times; he didn't trust anything anymore after what that deluded bitch did with the evidence in Cloverville. Even though he hated guns, he now "slept" with one. A .45 he bought surreptiously from a less than reputable source. Jane kept the gun secret, for good reasons, two of them being Lisbon, and anyone else who could haul him off to the asylum.

He lay down on his mattress feeling the cold steel of the gun under through his pillow, less than ideal but no matter... Jane pulled the box onto the bed with him, and put it between him and the wall. He practically wrapped himself around it, and fell asleep.

He awoke to someone pounding on his door. Groggily he stood up and quickly hid the box in the closet. He called out "Who is it?" his tone conveying his irritation.

"Jane, get down here and open the door!"

'Lisbon… so much for sleeping.' He padded down the stairs still only in his socks, and unlocked the door.

"Why the hell aren't you answering your phone? Are you trying to make me crazy?" she harped.

He decided to ignore the "crazy" remark and said "I guess it's dead."

She didn't buy it for one second. "Well get yourself ready, I'm taking you to your appointment."

He paused before replying as gently as he could. "No."

Lisbon looked at him in exasperated disbelief "What the hell do you mean by "no"."

" I mean exactly that. No, you are not taking me to my appointment."

She couldn't believe her ears, when had Jane gotten so "edgy"? She chose to ask him why instead of berate him. "Why don't you want me to come?"

"Because Lisbon, Minnelli was right we were getting too close, and this is really personal, so for having boundaries sake… no."

He was lying, she knew it or thought she did, but he was so damn good at it, she was never sure.

"Well the boundaries will have to be expanded today, because this is not negotiable. You go with me, or you break the contract with Williamson and he will put your pretty little butt in the psych ward."

His face a serene mask, hid his rage, and the soothing calm tone of his voice made him seem like he was perfectly pleased with this information.

"In that case agent Lisbon, let me get dressed and we can go."

She nodded and waited in the foyer while Jane got ready. She thought she'd seen a flash of anger in his eyes when she told him, but he seemed totally okay with it now. But who knew for sure what Jane felt he only let you see what he wanted you to see. 'I hope this shrink can handle him, I don't want to lose him… from the team.'

Jane was seething; he was so tired of being pushed into corners. He could feel his hands clench into fists, his pulse was zooming along an adrenalin speedway. He held it in, put it back in its box. With a deep cleansing breath, he centered himself and was back to his usual cool demeanor. Shoes on, hair tousled, he walked down the stairs and gave her a quiet "Ready."

She had caught the face on the wall when he opened the bedroom door; it made her sick every time she saw that damn thing. Lisbon knew better than to say anything about it. Her eyes scanned the mostly empty living room. Nothing but a card table with a coffee cup, pens and a legal pad, she was dying to know what Jane had written on it. She sidled up to the table as if she was just pacing around; she glanced down, and saw written in block letters "QUIT SNOOPING LISBON". She sputtered at the accusation, and then wondered how he knew. 'I guess it's not so hard to figure out. I am a detective.' It made her smile; this was the Jane she knew the guy who made everything a mystery.

"Want to get some breakfast? We have time."

Jane was hungry, and they did have two hours until his appointment… "Yes, let's go to the diner." He could use some coffee.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry, my dears for this long awaited update I didn't forget and I swear to complete all of my stories.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST…but I do own Simon Baker…(IWISH) LOL.

READ and REVIEW….PWEEZE

Jane was beginning to regret his decision to drink that third cup of coffee. He was exhausted but the effect, rather than energizing, served to make him jittery and set his teeth on edge. It was problematic, because he relied on his ability to hide his feelings, never to give anything away, while charming the pants off you. Sitting in the waiting room of the Schein's office he took in the décor, and the little details that would be clues to the man he was dealing with. What he found was tastefully nondescript; Warm cream-colored walls and mid-century modern meets -Pottery Barn couches, faux Kilim rugs, and soft lighting. There was one thing that was interesting; the prints on the walls were framed posters of Jazz festivals from around the country, and two foreign countries.

'So he likes Jazz…' What his colleagues didn't realize was that Jane was quite the Jazz aficionado. 'I won't let that affect my judgment.' In fact, the team didn't know a lot of things about Jane, they left their private selves at the door of CBI. Just as he was, about to begin wandering around reading the jazz posters more closely, the office door opened and out came a handsome figure of a man. He wasn't short but he wasn't tall either, he wore a starched blue oxford and a what looked to be a Harvard tie. He had rich brown hair that framed a boyishly handsome face his eyes were keen. They held an intensity his slightly nerdy and effete appearance belied. Jane gave his lightening fast appraisal all before Schein could call his name.

"Mr. Jane?" he walked over and stuck out his hand.

Jane looked down at the offered hand and then back at Schein's face and didn't say a word. He was giving his soon to be "therapist" no doubt about how he felt.

Schein returned his hand to his hip the other hand already planted on the other side. This guy wasn't going to be easy. 'Good, I love a challenge.' "Well shall we go into my office?"

Jane stood and followed the man silently, his disdain emanating from every pore. The office was comfortable and well appointed but not over the top, and there were bookshelves lining every wall except the window. He noticed a framed poster with rowers on a mist-covered waterway, with the sun barely peeking over the horizon through winter's bared trees.

'Ahhh, he's a rower. Harvard tie, obviously a rich boy.'

He chose the chair closest to the one Schein chose, sure that this was unexpected. Once they were both seated Schein said "What brings you here Patrick?"

Jane nearly laughed aloud at the obvious ploy to establish the patient/ doctor roles. "Well, _Dr. Schein_ as I'm sure you're aware this was part of the conditions of my remaining out of the hospital. So can we please move on from the posturing and inane questions? I don't want to be here, and I am confident that fairly soon you're not going to want me here."

Schein just sat there… not a word, his face an implacable mask. He didn't show a flicker of emotion his breathing remained steady he just seemed to be waiting patiently.

Jane was a bit impressed; they had skipped the "I will get through to you" speech and moved on to the silent treatment. This guy is not easily goaded.

Schein, thought long and hard about what he would say to Patrick Jane, he knew he was dealing with a brilliant man, studied in the art of reading people. The only thing he could come up with that might move him was brutal truth, the kind that bludgeoned you into seeing it. After he saw the amused and somewhat superior look on his Jane's face he said with a tinge of scorn "I guess if I was so arrogant I egged on a serial killer enough to brutally murder my wife and daughter I would try to kill myself too."

Jane felt his stomach lurch, and his pulse shot up in a mixture of despair and fury. He stifled the urge to gasp, but found himself unable to keep from clearing his throat. The words FUCK YOU hung on the edge of his now nearly white and trembling lips. He felt himself shift in his leather club chair, never taking his eyes off the ass hole in front of him. Despite all his efforts, he found his vision began to blacken with shock and he felt himself on the verge of passing out, and he pitched forward 'Damn caffeine'. Fortunately, he caught himself in time; he acted as if he was fixing his shoelace, and breathed through his disorientation. Now all that remained was his anger and nausea, and silence.

"Patrick you are a consummate mentalist I'm sure, but I find you terribly easy to read as well. So can we dispense with all the bullshit and make this worth both our whiles?"

Jane was still reeling with the physical nature of his response a light sheen of sweat began to cover his face, his chest felt uncomfortable, tight. His breathing began to quicken and he couldn't seem to get enough air. He knew he was having a panic attack but could not allow himself to acknowledge it, he hid it the best he could, which truthfully was amazingly well. However, it wasn't long before the black spots were swimming around his vision again. Just as he began to slide out of the slick leather chair, he thought 'This is really pissing me off.'

Schein grew concerned but let the surprising panic attack unfold. It was totally unexpected for both of them, he was sure, but as Jane started to slide down the chair onto the floor he jumped to his feet and grabbed his stethoscope off his desk, all in one fluid movement. He was down in time to keep Jane's head from doing an imitation of a basketball on the hardwood floor.

"Shit." He muttered. 'Brilliant, you knocked your patient out with your stellar technique.' Jane's BP was very low. "Weird…" his heart rate was rapid and not very strong.

He was seconds from calling an ambulance when Jane groaned, "Gonna be sick…"

He pulled the trashcan closer to them with his foot and helped Jane sit up, he was still out of it but he began vomiting violently into the trashcan. At first it seemed to just be coffee colored liquid, there were even what looked like grounds in it, then as the vomiting continued, there was blood, bright red blood.

"Dammit…hang on Patrick. I'm going to call 911."

Jane thought he nodded and flopped back down on the floor to tired from puking to wipe away the blood staining his mouth. He was drifting back into unconsciousness again when he realized this was going to mean another hospital stay… 'Damn...'


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I am so tired…. Trying to get these guys finished.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Mentalist

Read an Review

Dr. Schein did his best to keep Patrick Jane awake; unfortunately, it had become nearly impossible. It was soon clear that Jane was in hypovolemic shock from what appeared to be either a bleeding ulcer, esophagus, or God forbid a perforated stomach. By the time the EMT's arrived, Jane's pulse was non-existent and Schein was doing compressions. Luckily for Patrick Jane his shrink was a former ER attending and a capable physician, he directed the medics expertly. Within minutes, he had leads on him and a bolus of saline on a large bore needle pouring into him. Jane was loaded in the bus with the doc riding along, and they were flying down the freeway back to Sacramento General. It was a hairy ride, and they almost lost him, but by the time he arrived at the ER he was a little more stable, thanks to Thomas Schein. Jane would not like, ' owing his life to this shrink', the thought brought a smile to the psychiatrist's face.

The familiar murmur of a hospital invaded Jane's velvet black unconscious. He fought waking with irritation. Nevertheless, the incessant bing and hiss, of an ICU room relentless in his ears, would not allow him to remain blissfully ensconced in the void, and his eyes came trembling open. The room was the typical faded creamy tone of older hospitals, the lights overly bright and disappointingly fluorescent. He sensed he was not alone, with a turn of his head he discovered Thomas Schein asleep with his head resting on his hand. 'Odd… not what you'd expect.'

Schein felt someone scrutinizing him and ended his tenuous nap with a start. He looked up at Jane's bed to find him staring back at him.

"Dr. Schein this is taking dedication to new heights. I don't know whether to be impressed or frightened."

Thomas chuckled. "Well Patrick that's just the kind of doctor I am… you might say I'm a "STALKER DOCTOR!"

Jane was astonished and bemused he hadn't expected humor from a psychiatrist, let alone humor that refused to take its self too seriously. Thomas Schein was an anomaly, and Jane was now intrigued. Which of course meant _let the games begin…_

Jane answered him coolly "Kidding aside, why are you here? More importantly why am I here?"

"That is a question we can only answer for ourselves…"

Jane was starting to get irritated. "Look, would just tell me what happened?"

Schein knew it was childish to goad his patient but he couldn't help himself. Patrick Jane needed someone to look past the charm and intensity and drag his real feelings out into the light of day, and ticking him off was a sure fire way of speeding that process up.

"Well Patrick what do you think it means when someone begins puking blood?"

Jane smiled in an effort to hide his ire. "Are you saying I have an ulcer?"

"No, I'm saying you have three ulcers, and you were on the verge of a perforation, all in all not the best situation to be in."

"Well I am sure doctor it was just an effect of the bout with alcohol I had nothing more serious than that and perhaps a bit of h. pylori."

'I'm sure.' Schein thought. " Yes, well it seems we are to have our session here instead. You are scheduled for cautery tomorrow morning."

"Does that involve general anesthetic?"

"Usually, why?"

"Well I am allergic to inhalant anesthetic; I am subject to malignant hyperthermia."

"I will be sure to note it on your chart and speak to your Gastro guy." Obviously he's not suicidal or he wouldn't have mentioned the allergy.

Jane could see the logic leap Schein was making just by watching his face. It was exactly how he wanted it to go. He quite easily proved he wasn't suicidal by a simple lie. The sooner he could be done with this annoyance the better.

"Since we're here Patrick I want to finish what we started in my office."

'I'll bet you do.' "What do you mean specifically?"

"I made a very antagonistic statement to you. Your reaction was somewhat dramatic….what with vomiting blood and passing out and everything. One could extrapolate certain conclusions from such a response."

"Then one would be grossly inaccurate doctor. One would not be employing good science in making such unfounded conclusions."

Thomas smiled. This tete a tete was the most interesting his practice had been in years. "Do you recall what it was I said to you before you decompensated?"

'Decompensated? You ass, I am not crazy!' But Jane smiled as sweetly as possible, hiding the building frustration and rage that threatened to explode from his mouth. "Why don't you simply repeat what it was you said."

Thomas, thought for a moment letting the tension build, before he said nonchalantly "Nahhhh, nevermind."

Jane's eyebrows nearly leapt off his face. He wasn't able to completely hide his surprise. This man was playing a serious game, he had Jane off balance, he didn't enjoy the sensation. Then he remembered he had one thing he could use guaranteed to make the guy leave.

"Dr. Schein can we take this up later? I am very tired."

Schien knew it was an excuse to get him to leave, but the pale diaphoretic face gave it credence that couldn't be ignored by any doctor. "Yes, why don't we do that Patrick? I'll see you after your surgery sometime tomorrow." He stood and patted Jane's arm and walked quietly out of the room.

Jane was asleep within a moment of Schein leaving, he fell asleep thinking of his daughter… just like every other time.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is seriously AU hope you don't mind but I was intrigued by the episode with the post baseball to the head flashbacks.

Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST

Jane was sitting in his hospital room trying to throw the veil of anesthetic off. He was feeling no pain now but was sure he would have some discomfort later. They did his procedure laproscopically so he didn't have huge incisions that would speed his recovery time, and that was good. All he wanted to do was get the hell out of here, he'd had enough of hospitals for one lifetime. Just as the haze was lifting Lisbon walked in, her hair bouncing in rhythm with her purposeful stride.

'Bouncing hair? I have lost it.'

"Hey."

"Hello Lisbon."

"What is this overwhelming desire to be hospitalized lately?"her snarkiness in full swing.

"You know me, I love attention."

She snorted "Yeah, I do."Her expression became concerned "Seriously, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine just a bit of a tummy problem."

"Jane, you were puking blood! They had to close up three ulcers!"

"Well I said it was a problem didn't I?"

"You never think about these things. You're so hell bent for leather to get _him_ you don't take care of yourself. It's stupid and you need to stop it."

'Poor Teresa she's worried for me… I wish she would leave it alone' "That's just one opinion, and it's not mine."

Lisbon threw up her hands in exasperation and plopped into the recliner next to the bed. She picked up her bag , pulled out a magazine and began reading it as if Jane wasn't there.

He sat and watched her somewhere between amused and annoyed. It was bad enough that Schein was in his face he didn't need or want it from Lisbon at all. She had the irritating habit of getting to him, though he would never let it show. No, Patrick Jane was too smooth for that, he only ever showed a bit of anger and derision but that was the extent of it. However, for those he knew and those on the receiving end of his anger, it was a scary thing to behold. It was calm and cold, and had an air of menace that chilled you to the bone; it was made all the more disturbing by his sunny good looks and his ability to switch from charm to threat in seconds. Fortunately, few people had seen that side of Jane and he was generally regarded as an affable trickster, who just happened to be "the smartest man in the room."

Lisbon could feel his penetrating gaze upon her, but she kept her face in the magazine, she was too scared for him, too emotional. It wasn't good she was so worried, it meant she had begun to lose al objectivity… 'Ha! _Begun to lose objectivity? Honey that ship has sailed.'_ Her inner voice always told it like it was and she winced at the truth in her subconscious. She couldn't stand his staring anymore, it made her feel too exposed.

"Jane, either go to sleep or talk, but quit staring at me it's creepy!"

He chuckled "Why Lisbon I am just sitting here innocently, waiting for Dr. Schein to come for our meeting."

"Oh yeah right. What? Dr. Schein is coming?"

"Yes I'm afraid he is irritatingly dedicated, and he seems determined to "cure" me. "

Lisbon snorted at that .

"I know ridiculous isn't it?" They heard a voice from the doorway.

Lisbon blushed, Dr. Schien was remarkably handsome and she wasn't sure just how much he'd heard.

"Well speak of the devil… If it isn't my other arch nemesis."

"Yes, it's me Patrick the evil Psychiatrist. Who so diabolically saved your life a few days ago." Schein's tone was playful, but Jane's face darkened with anger.

"Yes well, I can see you boys have things to discuss…Jane behave so you can get out of here and get back to work, we need you."

Jane just shrugged and dismissed her with a simple "Goodbye Lisbon."

"It was nice to see you agent Lisbon."

"Thanks…uhh you too." And with that she was gone.

The room was silent as her leaving left a vacuum, they stared at one another like two gunslingers sizing one another up. Schien was the first to break the silence.

"She's quite attractive isn't she…" he said nonchalantly. Then moved to the chair Lisbon had been sitting in.

Patrick felt a prickle of jealousy, "Lisbon?...I hadn't noticed." His tone giving nothing away.

Schein looked surprised "Really?... Are you gay?"

Jane cracked up it was the most real laugh he'd had in a several weeks.

Schein was pleased with himself he had reached his patient if only with humor, it was a start.

"Why doctor are you asking me for personal reasons…" His tone suggestive, and accompanied by an exaggerated wink.

It was Schein's turn to laugh. The tension of the past sessions, notwithstanding the medical crisis was gone. Perhaps he could get this enigmatic man to open up to him after all.

Suddenly Jane's face became a mask once more. "Don't get your hopes up Schein, I'm still not going to give you anything."

"So you're saying I'm going to have to work at it."

"Ever the positive one aren't we doc, but no, that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is don't waste your time."

Thomas Schein looked at Jane his face back to a clinical mask. He was just a stubborn and oppositional as Jane and he wasn't about to give up. If anything he had more desire to crack the code of Patrick Jane. He had a thought, it just popped into his head, when he thought of Jane's name.

"Patrick Jane's not your real name is it?"

Jane felt the room tilt, and his heart began to race, the damn monitor giving him away. "What are you talking about Schein? "

He knew he hit on something big, and though he would be cautious he wasn't about to let it go. "Oh I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Jane was having difficulty calming down; he had not anticipated such a worthy opponent. Not even Red John had figured it out, and this head shrinker was treading through the minefield of his past with ease. He decided to use the tried and true trick of telling half-truths, throw him a bone so to speak.

"Though this isn't your office I assume we are still under the confidentiality rules.?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then yes you are correct my given name is not Patrick Jane."

"What is your given name?"

"That is something I will never tell you, so move on."

Schein nodded his agreement, and went for another question while he had Jane still a bit off kilter.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Nowhere… and everywhere."

Okay that tells me he didn't stay in one place much as a child.

"Why did you nearly drink yourself to death?"

Once again not the question he was expecting.

"I believe we already covered that."

"No we didn't you lied and I then asked you if you felt guilty about…"

"Yes, I recall what you asked. Okay I suppose I will give you something but don't get too excited by it."

Thomas leaned forward in interest.

"I don't usually drink because I have a bit of a problem with alcohol, when I drink I can't seem to stop. I believe it's called binge drinking. I'm fine as long as I don't start, and I ordinarily have no problem with not drinking. Nevertheless, after the deaths of Bosco and his team, we all were drinking and like a fool, I joined in. It is as simple, and embarrassing as that."

Binge drinking, classic self-destructive behavior, especially with trauma victims. But Schein doubted this was confined to his recent trauma of the murders, Jane's impenetrable façade was far too reminiscent of the many victims of child hood trauma that he had worked with in his career. Suddenly it occurred to him that Jane chose him, and it was well documented that trauma work was large portion of his experience. 'He picked me for a reason, probably subconsciously but still…'

What was the man thinking? Why wasn't he saying anything?

Finally, Schein said "Fair enough, I can accept that for now."

"Good, are we finished?"

"No such luck Patrick. The next question is going to be a tough one. Why don't you humor me and try to answer it honestly."

"Maybe I will but no promises. Go ahead."

Thomas reached into his bag of tricks and managed to come up with a question no one had ever really asked. But one that Jane asked himself continuously.

"Why did you taunt Red John?"

Patrick felt like someone had sold the keys to his carefully guarded strong boxes of his emotions to this man. He was a bit shocked by his ability to keep him off kilter.

Schein could see the distress on Jane's face and noticed the rise in his heart rate. He had hit a nerve, he imagined Jane had crucified himself repeatedly over that same question. What he wanted to know was what, if any, conclusions did he reach.

"Patrick, I just want to know what happened, it's not a blame game or a character assassination."

He swallowed his mouth dry, and found for some reason he wanted to answer.

"I taunted him because I could. I was riding high on my growing celebrity and my overweening ego. I never thought he would come after me. It wasn't real to me… I did it because I thought I was impervious… but I should have known better…it's not like I didn't know better…" Jane's voice fell to a whisper and Schein could see he was somewhere else.

"Patrick…Patrick… where are you right now? What are you remembering?"

_He was sixteen and on the run from his father. He was hiding out in truck stops catching rides and moving around. He'd made friends with some of the working girls who made the circuit, and one day some of them asked him to keep an eye out when they went with a John. He asked them why, and they said that girls were disappearing. He was scared by what they asked but he was flattered that they thought he could help, so being sixteen and cocky, he agreed. _

_He started following them to the rigs, writing down the plates, looking at the guys' faces, and for awhile nothing happened. Until one late September, when the air was growing cold and there was a threat of snow, one of the women who treated him like a son said, "You stay inside where it's warm honey, it'll be alright he's a regular." Like the young fool he was he listened to her… She was never seen again._

_After that, he became obsessed with finding the man who was killing them. He made sure none of his friends went anywhere alone, he kept track of the men's routes and the patterns of their behavior. He learned who liked what, and which girl they preferred .Essentially he became a pimp, though he would never admit to such a title._

_He learned he couldn't save everyone, not every girl wanted his help. Many were teenage runaways, but he was a good lookin kid and once in awhile one of the young girls would take a shine to him, and he used his looks to get them to let him help. Nevertheless, try as he might he couldn't cover all of them… _

_One night after he'd been living from truck stop to truck stop for over a year, he saw a young girl of about fifteen, scared and naïve, climb into a rig. Just as it pulled away one of his friends walked over needing his assistance, and he never got the plate number off the truck. They found her body near the Green river two weeks later. He looked at the picture of her parents outside the morgue crying, and felt sick. His anger rose, and he swore he would catch the bastard. He was smart, he already had the skills of a good con man, and he was very sure of his abilities, so he turned his mind to the problem and found he had some idea who the killer might be. He began stalking his prey. Why at the ripe old age of seventeen he thought he could best the police and the FBI, spoke volumes about his arrogance. A problem he would have his whole life. Needless to say he failed to catch his quarry and he began losing many of his friends, he was failing and the man that was killing these women out foxed him at every turn. It became a cat and mouse game, and though the killer never formally communicated with him, he clearly began purposefully choosing the women in his charge._

_One day after another one of his friends bodies were found near the river, one more time he failed them, he decided enough was enough. He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take the police always questioning him, and the look of fear and sorrow in the other girls eyes. Defeated, he got into a rig with a trucker he knew was heading to California, and never looked back._

_It was nearly twenty years later before they caught the killer and countless women had been murdered, he should have remembered the lesson and not let his ego and his anger run wild once again, knowing a serial killer was involved… Unfortunately, for his wife and daughter, he chose pride over prudence._

Schein could see Jane was lost in a memory, one that had him shaken and he knew better than to touch him, but he could see Jane was headed toward a panic attack.

"Patrick…PATRICK, look at me! That's right now, I want you to keep your eyes open and concentrate on slowing your breathing down, just keep looking at me and listening to my voice…that's right… you know what to do…good, that's good. I want you to remember where you are…you are in the hospital, it's 2010 and you are talking to me… come on…you got it. That's right…" a few moments passed with only the sound of Jane's breathing.

"Feel better?"

Jane could breathe again and his heart had slowed, but now he felt the flush of shame on his face. What kind of mentalist has to be talked down using hypnosis techniques? He felt anger for his weakness, for tipping his hand, for his failure to remain in control.

"I will when you leave." He said caustically.

Schein smiled a grim smile, "I'm not going anywhere so you better get used to the idea. I am going to try to help you Patrick whether you like it or not. When I decide I'm done then we're done and you can go and live however you want, but I hope that if, even in a small way, I am able to help you, you will consider continuing this process."

Jane looked at him the only emotion on his face was the anger betrayed in his eyes. "I wouldn't count on it, and after the six months is up, I never want to see you again."

"That's fine… but you will answer my questions honestly until then or I will have extra time added ."

Patrick was practically seething, but he had a blank and bored expression on his face. "We'll see…"

"Well not to put too fine a point on it Patrick, you either cooperate or you are going to be spending time in… another part of this hospital."

'Bastard!' "Fine, as you have all the chips it's your call…what did you ask me?"

Thomas decided that was enough for one day, and stood up to leave. "No, Patrick I don't want to ask you anything else today, but be prepared for tomorrow. And just in case you have any ideas about leaving here AMA I have alerted Dr. Williamson and he has agreed to send someone to sit with you. Oh and I will be letting agent Lisbon know of my concerns as to your desire to flee this process. Anyway guess I'll see you tomorrow. Good night." Without waiting for a response he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

'Check and mate…I am so screwed.' Jane let his head hit the pillow and after a few minutes of skewering himself for his failure to keep the control…he fell fast asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Oh my lovelies I am so sorry for my terrible neglect and vow to be more faithful with my updates.

Bit of a cliffie I think. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Mentalist

Read and Review. It is the fuel inspiration runs on

The night had been a hard one for Jane. When he finally fell asleep, it was restless and full of nightmares of young women's violated bodies thrown by the river, their lifeless eyes imploring him, asking him why he abandoned them. Then the scene would shift to that night, the note, the face on the wall, the carnage, the sound of his mind shattering, his soul imploding. He shot up in the hospital bed panting, sweat trickling down his brow, and in pain. The violence of his awakening pulled at his stitches, he hissed placing his hand on his bandage. He sat there trying to shake off the images that refused to let him go. He was caught in their grip, paralyzed. He tried to talk himself down, to try to slow his breathing but he was unsuccessful. The rapid change in his heart rate, blood pressure, and respirations sent his nurse running into his room. He was embarrassed but he couldn't stop the freight train that was this panic attack. What she saw was a man at his breaking point, his hands gripping the rails of the bed trying to ground himself, to hang on. It wasn't going to happen, he just couldn't stop the pace of his breathing, the adrenalin pushing his heart rate into tachycardia. All these things were melding into unconsciousness. He looked at the nurse who was pushing the button for assistance, their eyes locked for one brief moment and he was gone. His young nurse had never witnessed someone having a full blown panic attack, complete with chest pain and unconsciousness, she was afraid of handling it incorrectly. But the thing that chilled her, was the look in his eyes, she had never seen such a mix of desperation and anger before.

Several hours later Patrick started waking up to voices in his room, he longed to fall back into the comforting darkness of oblivion, no dreams, no memories, no people, and most of all no Red John. However, whoever was chattering away would not shut up long enough for him to return.

"Patrick. Patrick, come on, you need to wake up now."

He refused, grasping onto the last tendrils of the velvet warmth he had been in. "Ow! Someone was doing that damn sternal rub. He opened his fury filled eyes and shouted "I wish you quacks would stop doing that to me, it hurts like _hell!"_

"Well good morning sunshine. I see we had an interesting night."

"_Really? _What'd you do ? Because my night left a lot to be desired, sleep for one."

Schein snorted his response.

"So you want to tell me what happened?"

"I assume it's in the chart, I mean that is what you people _do_ right?"

"Yes, but I want to hear it from _you_, from the horse's mouth so to speak"

"_Neighhhhhhhhhhh"_

Schein laughed heartily at Jane's pun. _Patrick you truly are a rare individual, now if I could just get you to trust me… Please let me help you._

Jane began to squirm uncomfortably as Schein's expression changed from mirth to that of genuine compassion.

"Seriously Patrick, these panic attacks are becoming more severe, I'm concerned about the toll they're taking on your body."

"There not so bad I've had worse…" _Idiot! You just gave him tons of ammunition. Just keep your damn mouth shut."_

"Do you mean you've had _worse_ _panic attacks _or something else?"

"It doesn't matter, I don't want to talk about it."

"Of that I am certain, but I am here to have you do just that, so talk."

_The man is relentless._ "Let me rephrase that. I will_ not _talk about it."

"That's not our agreement Patrick. If you don't want me to put you in the psych ward, you have to comply."

_Bastard._ "Okay dammit, yes I have had worse _things _happen."

_Still too vague, he is such a sly one._ " Well besides the obvious, what else has happened to you that falls

under the category of worse _things, _ as you so evasively put it?"

Memories began flashing before his mind's eye, a litany of things best left undisturbed. Things had escaped from their well constructed boxes, and he was powerless to stop them, the pictures of the past. His psyche mocked him, laughed at his arrogant assumption that he had any control.

_Shit, he's going to hyperventilate again._ "Patrick, you are breathing awfully fast and your heart rate is climbing, you're going to have another attack if you can't calm down. If you are unable to do that then I'm afraid you can't go home in the morning, we'll need to monitor you."

"And by monitor you mean psych ward." He was nearly panting and his face was pale despite the acerbic tone, Schein could see the fear and pain in his expressive eyes.

_Come on Jane, pull it together!_

He started to breathe more slowly pausing between deep breaths he could feel his body beginning to respond. As he regained his composure he placed his mind on lock down, the walls slammed down with such force he swore it was audible. He sighed and looked at Schein with the cool demeanor of a man in control.

"There Schein, you got what you wanted, and I get to leave tomorrow."

_Oh hell…that's exactly the opposite of what I want. _He felt like they had lost ground, and he knew that Jane would be in his cocoon of aloofness and all of his responses would return to the glib ones of a man hiding.

"Jane you have to tell me _something_. Or else I'm going to assume that to be a breach of the contract."

_Blah, blah, blah, contract shmontract. I've got it! He only wants to talk about my feeeeeeelings, and he thinks telling him the sordid details of my life will trigger them. Well I'll tell you, but I won't give you what you want._

Patrick shifted in the bed and turned to face Schein. His face was devoid of emotion, his eyes were cold and hard. Tom was hoping that he would at least try to open up, he didn't really want him to be admitted to the psych ward. Nevertheless, he made the threat and he would have to carry it out if Jane kept up his belligerence.

Jane looked in Schein's eyes blankly and began speaking in a low monotone. "You want stories? I have stories, but they don't _mean anything_. Everyone has messed up things in their past, I just seem to have a little more than some."

He paused.

"Go on, it's okay."

_Yeah everything is just " sunshine and roses". Ah, hell why did I have to go there? _His brain had betrayed him by bringing up the very thing he was avoiding by using his father's stupid catch phrase.

The doctor could see the mask falter just for a second something had reminded him.

"Okay you want a story? I'll give you a story." His voice had a bitter edge to it.

Schein leaned forward to hear him better. _Finally a chink in the stone wall._


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Slowly but surely I am getting caught up with my stories only three more stories to go. Please forgive the tardiness of my updates.

Disclaimer: I do not own the MENTALIST

Read. Review. Whatever.

* * *

Jane looked at Schein, the doctor's face full of anticipation, and briefly wondered if he ought to change his mind about telling the shrink anything. The question was what should he tell and how much? He decided to tell the story of his mother, that ought to give him enough angst to leave Jane alone for awhile.

"I suppose you'd like to hear about my childhood."

"Cliché, I know but it's usually a good place to start." Schein tried his best to be nonchalant.

_Okay here I go. _He suddenly felt nervous, and his pulse began to race his breath quickened. _ Damn you Jane pull it together. _"Well let me begin by saying I didn't have any worse of a childhood than many people, but it was an unusual one. And no I will not elaborate."

Thomas Schein tried to hide his interest and remain as clinically neutral as possible, he wasn't sure he was pulling it off.

_Look at him practically salivating. _Jane had to work at not laughing. Then he became serious.

"When I was seven years old my mother died. I saw it happen. My father didn't cope very well and was drunk for the next four years. Things between us weren't good before she died, and after— let's just say I didn't enjoy those years. Around the time of my twelfth birthday, my father began going to AA and got sober. It didn't improve things, at least not for me. If my dad was an angry drunk he was even meaner sober. However, something happened that made him realize that I was a good commodity, that I could follow him in his profession and earn him a lot of money. With the change in dynamic our relationship seemed to improve, but when I refused to do something he wanted, something that had the potential to earn him thousands of dollars, he snapped. I was sixteen and not afraid anymore so when he began hitting me with a two by four I grabbed it, yanked it out of his hands, and returned the favor. When he lost consciousness, I ran and never looked back. That's how I ended up hanging out at the truck stop."

The room was quiet. Schein let the sounds of the monitors fill the silence. He waited for a reaction from Jane. One he felt certain would come after dredging up such memories. Jane stared at him with his penetrating gaze designed to make him squirm, it wasn't working. Schein stared back.

_He thinks he's rattling me. Ha! He has no clue who he's dealing with. _Jane remained stubbornly quiet. _He reminds me of him, cool confidence. I wonder if he has the same temper._ A memory flashed of a time when his father was patiently teaching him how to play poker, and to count cards. It was one of his best memories. He felt his eyes prick with tears, and he began losing control of his breathing again. Jane didn't know how to deal with a _happy _memory. He wasn't armored against them.

Schein watched as the man warred with himself. Biding his time until either Jane cracked or he let him in voluntarily. Whatever happened now, unless Jane had a more serious panic attack, he would be going home tomorrow morning, Patrick had kept his end of the bargain. The only problem was Schein was scared to death what would happen to his patient if he went home alone.

While Schein was musing over Jane's fate, Patrick began breathing erratically and his heart rate was on the rise, sweat gleamed off his brow and his palms were slick. _Shit._ He couldn't get the memories and visions of the past to quit flashing through his brain. Some of them were too horrific to see the light of day, but they were relentless.

Suddenly he felt a hand touch him and he shrank from its touch yelling, "Don't fucking touch me."

The rage he felt was over the top but it did knock him loose from the grasp of the impending panic attack.

"It's okay Patrick. I'm not touching you anymore. I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that without warning you." Schein was surprised by the level of anger burning in the man's eyes. They returned to staring at one another.

Patrick began to regain his composure. It galled him to no end the way this man could shake his ironclad shield of cool. He concentrated on his breathing and imagined himself returning to equanimity. Soon he was the picture of unflappable serenity.

"Okay, well thank you for sharing that Patrick. I'll see you tomorrow to discharge you."

"See you tomorrow." Jane replied with no emotion.

Schein walked out of his patient's room and took a deep breath. This case was getting to him. He would have to pull it together and find away to reach this man before he ended up much worse.

_Thank God. That man is so tedious. He sits there caring at me so loudly I can feel his concern coming off him in waves. It is damn annoying. He's the one who needs help. I can't wait to get the hell out of here and get back to the CBI. _

Jane relaxed and soon he was asleep.

Thomas Schein drove home through the rain replaying the day's events over in his mind. He tried to dissect Jane's every word for clues, there weren't many to go on. He assumed that Jane had an abusive parent and that was why he ran away. He hadn't counted on the young Patrick seeing his mother die. The story was vague enough to tell him nothing but the barest of facts. However Jane didn't seem to mind describing his father's alcoholism and subsequent abusive of him. Again, it was emotionless, and seemed to cost him nothing. Patrick Jane was going to be hard to reach, much harder than Thomas had anticipated.

Several hours later, Jane awoke with a start. The nightmare returned once again, but this time he wouldn't let it overcome him. He slowed his respirations and grew calm.

_I have had it with this crap. I'm out of here. _He reached into the drawer and pulled his cell phone out.

"Hello." An irritated voice said.

"Cho, this is Jane. Come get me."

_Dammit Jane! _"I was asleep you know. Aren't you getting out in the morning?"

"It is the morning. I'll be out front."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I have to decided to spoil you with another update so quickly on the heels of the last one.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own THE MENTALIST

Read. Review. Whatever.

Cho was pissed. _Damn you Jane, why'd you have to wake me up? I was having such a great dream._ He threw off the covers and went to shower. Forty-five minutes later, a slightly less miffed Cho emerged from his apartment. The sun was rising, barely brushing the horizon. The sky was a dirty grey, the half-light of dawn. Cho got into his sedan and drove to the hospital. He wondered why he listened to Jane, why Jane could get him to do things no one else could, or would. It seemed to boil down to one irrefutable fact, and that was that Kimball Cho trusted Patrick Jane.

_The guy gets to me. Ah hell, truth is he also gets me._

Somehow, Kimball and Patrick had a connection on a different level than the rest of the team. It was one of quiet understanding, and certitude.

Cho pulled up to the entrance of the hospital, there on a bench sat Jane, pale and looking like crap, but with a self-satisfied smirk all over his face. Cho almost laughed at Jane's rebellious air, and then remembered he was still mad at the man.

"Thank you for coming Cho."

Cho glared at him.

"Okay, I see you're still a bit angry."

"Hell yes I'm angry. You wake me up at four thirty in the morning just so you can skip out of the hospital. I know you don't sleep Jane but us normal humans need it, and damnit I was finally getting some rest."

Patrick was taken aback by the fierceness of Cho's response. "Then why did you come?"

Now Jane was getting irritated.

"I came because you are a stubborn and relentless ass, who would have rappelled out the window on sheets, if you wanted to escape. I figured I'd save us all the grief of your tendency to get in trouble."

Jane had to laugh at the description Cho gave. "Good thinking Cho. Now can we get out of here?"

"Yeah, come on."

Jane opened the door and slid in throwing his bag into the back seat.

As they were leaving the parking lot Jane's stomach growled with hunger so loudly Cho could hear its rumbling.

"You okay?" Cho asked without turning his head.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your stomach sounds like a rock quarry, and you just had ulcer surgery?" Cho's tone was growing more exasperated.

"Oh, that. Nah it's nothing. I'm just hungry."

"Figures."

"Why do you say that?" He whined as if his feelings were hurt. Jane knew the answer but now he was messing with Cho.

Cho rolled his eyes "Because you are _always _hungry Jane. And don't think I don't know what you're trying to do. I am _not _taking you for pancakes."

_Crap. _Jane decided to try a new approach. "Yes Kimball you are right, I would like to go for pancakes. However, if you are not interested, just drop me off. I'll find my way home."

Jane looked up and saw that Cho had turned into the diner while he'd been talking. A genuine smile spread across his face. When Patrick Jane smiled for real, it was like a corona of light surrounded him and shone from his face. He made you feel the joy he was feeling.

Cho sat there and acted as if he wasn't getting out, but seeing the pure pleasure that flicked across Jane's face he decided to drop the act and go inside. He shut the car off and opened his door.

Jane sat there a bit puzzled for a moment, and then exited the Taurus too. Soon he wore an impish smile and said to Cho just as they were walking in the door of the restaurant.

"You like me."

"Whatever Jane, I just need some coffee. I can tell this day's going to be a long one."

"No. You like me."

Cho sighed and sat in a nearby booth. "If it makes you feel better ,then yeah, I tolerate you."

Jane seemed to accept that answer and began looking at the menu.

While Cho and Jane were finishing up at the diner Thomas Schein was headed to the hospital for rounds and to discharge Jane. He went to visit his other admits on the psych ward first not quite ready for sparring with his most challenging patient. After an hour or so he walked into the door to Jane's room and found it empty. In that moment he became so frustrated and angry he had to walk away and calm himself down.

When he could speak without losing his cool he walked to the nurse's station and asked to speak with the charge nurse. The formidable woman in lavender scrubs walked over.

"I'm the charge nurse Dr.—"

"Dr. Schein, and you are?"

"Margaret, how can I help you?"

"Where is my patient?"

" What do you mean where's your patient?" She was getting defensive.

"Look Margaret I know how it is when the night shift does their last set of vitals and then does reports, and before the day shift gets going, the patient's are on their own."

He wasn't being judgmental just gently stating the reality of the hospital nursing dynamic.

"So you see Margaret my patient is missing."

Wanting to check for herself she walked around the counter. "Which room?"

Schein silently directed her down the hall to Jane's room. The look of concern on her face made Schein feel better. _At least she cares._

"I have no idea where Mr. Jane has gone. I see his nurse is still here I will ask her about this."

Margaret was getting a bit angry at the situation as well. Thomas didn't envy the poor woman about to feel the wrath of the charge nurse.

"Margaret, wait." She turned around with surprising grace on her pink croc's.

"Yes?"

"Never mind, I'm sure Mr. Jane has disappeared just to irritate me. It's not the nursing staff's fault; he is a very clever man."

The tension left Margaret's face and she smiled with gratitude. "Thank you Dr. Schein, for being so understanding, I really appreciate it."

"No harm done. Jane was scheduled to be discharged anyway. Tell you what, why don't I fill out the paperwork so we don't have any hassles."

She practically beamed at him. "Why don't I go get you those papers?" Her lavender scrubs and squeaky pink croc's became a blur.

_Jane you better be behaving. _He pulled his cell phone out to call agent Lisbon. He wanted to apprise her of the situation. _He may not be afraid of me, but something tells me he likes to stay on Lisbon's good side for more reasons than friendship. I bet Lisbon can put the fear of God in him._ Schein smiled at the thought of Lisbon reading Jane the riot act.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N:UPDATE

DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE.

DOES IT SUCK?

* * *

Jane and Cho walked into the office fully caffeinated and full of pancakes. The day had a promising start.

"Jane! You're out of the hospital." Grace gave him a big hug

"Apparently."

Rigsby came over and shook Jane's hand. "Glad your back Jane."

"Well, as touching as this is, we have work to do." Cho opined.

Just then, a Lisbon shaped blur came flying out of her office and headed straight for Jane.

"Jane! What the hell are you doing leaving the hospital like that?"

_Uh oh…Schein must have ratted me out._

"Lisbon, it's good to see you. Why don't we talk in your office?"

They walked into her office and shut the door just in time for Lisbon to begin her tirade.

"I just got off the phone with Dr. Schein. He says that you left the hospital without telling anyone and that you are still resisting him in your therapy sessions."

"That would be an accurate assessment."

"Don't you know that he has the power to commit you?"

"Yes, but he won't. We have an agreement. You know I understand you missed me but you needn't get so upset."

"Huh, yeah right. I was enjoying the peace and quiet, no crazy schemes, no suspects or families complaining to the AG about you. It was so nice to do things the right way for once."

His eyes twinkled.

"Lisbon, I can't believe you would say that, you wound me. Don't you know I'm a fragile man?"

She screamed in frustration.

"Just get out!"

She shoved him out the door.

Rigsby, and Grace smirked at him when he came back in to the office.

"Glad things are back to normal." Rigsby said.

Patrick ignored them and went to his couch, suddenly he was feeling quite tired.

Grace and Rigsby exchanged a worried glance when Jane didn't respond to the gentle jibe.

"Jane, are you alright, you look a little pale?"

Patrick looked up to see the lovely Grace standing over him, he could smell her perfume, and her luscious pink lips were as mesmerizing as her eyes and her fiery tresses.

_Damn she's a beautiful girl._ _Focus Jane._

"Yes Van pelt I'm fine just a little tired I was up late planning my escape."

"Okay. You want some tea or something?"

_Rigsby is a lucky man._

"That would be lovely Grace, thank you."

He went back to laying his arm across his eyes. He lay like that for a few minutes enjoying the peace and the quiet hum of the office's activity. Then he felt someone standing over him. He decided to ignore whoever it was and try to sleep.

_It's not Lisbon ,or Grace. It's a man, not Cho, could be the new boss. Ah hell…Schein._

Without moving a muscle he said, "Schein would you quit staring at me it's beginning to creep me out."

"Patrick, I see you're ready for our session, nice couch."

Jane nearly smiled at that, but didn't remove his arm or sit up.

"Well Dr. Schein to what do I owe this stalkeresque pleasure?"

"You know, the whole Mountain to Mohammed thing."

"We don't have a session scheduled for today,"

"Yes we did, but you left the hospital before we could have it, so I thought I'd meet you here."

Patrick sighed and sat up, his blue eyes showing a hint of irritation.

"No, not here."

"Why don't we take a ride then?"

Jane eyed him suspiciously and then stood to go. He knew Schein was the kind of person who kept his word so he wasn't worried that he was trying to commit him. He looked over to see Grace standing there with a steaming cup of tea, and Rigsby pretending not to notice what was going on. Cho, however, had no problem staring at the scene, his eyes bored into Jane; he gave him a quick nod and went back to work.

"Sure, Dr. Schein it looks like a lovely day for a drive, we can take my car."

Tom laughed.

"No Patrick that's quite alright we'll take mine, there's no way I'm letting you drive."

The whole team snickered at that.

Cho muttered, "I see your reputation precedes you."

"Let's get out of here."Jane grumbled.

Jane grabbed his tea from Grace and walked swiftly out of the office. Dr. Schein gave the team a smile and followed his aggravated patient. He caught up with Patrick at the elevators.

"These elevators are excruciatingly slow."

"We can take the stairs if you like."

Just then they heard the ding of the car arriving.

"How about that." Schein said cheerfully.

Jane stared ahead and sipped his tea, pointedly ignoring Schein. When the doors opened, he rushed out of them to the parking lot.

Jane stopped and waited for Schein with a knowing smile on his face. The doctor didn't hurry he walked over to him at a leisurely pace.

"As glad as I am that you are so eager to have our session, I do wish you'd quit running."

Patrick ignored him.

"Why are we standing here?"

He smiled broadly, "I bet I can figure out which car is yours."

"What do you mean?"

"I am betting you that I can pick your car out of here without you telling me, in five tries."

He already knew which car it was. He gave such a high number of guesses both as a negotiation tool, and as a way to make his getting it in one guess all the more impressive.

"What are the stakes?"

"If I get it right then you have to buy me lunch and you get no questions."

_He already knows which car it is, I can tell he's just playing me. The question is do I go along or do I call him on it?_

"Hmmm, I don't know that seems pretty steep. How about I buy you lunch but you only have to answer five questions… _Therapeutic _questions, ones that have to do with your treatment."

_Ahh a parry._

"Well then, what if I get it in three tries? Then you can buy me lunch and get _three _questions answered."

"Nope, no deal, it's five or the whole thing is off."

_Damn._

"Just forget it."

"Okay. Since we both know that you already figured out which car it is why don't you lead the way?"

Jane sighed, "Fine."

They walked over to a black Audi A6, it was sleek and beautiful and spoke of quality, and luxury but was not flashy. The cars other feature was that it was fast as hell and handled like a dream. Jane's mouth watered at the thought of taking it out for a spin.

"Is this the car you think is mine?"

"I know it's yours."

"How do you know?"

"Because, it's you."

"What do you mean?"

"It's expensive, fast, and looks great, but it isn't a car that says 'I'm inaccessible'. So it's you."

"Was that a compliment?"

"Merely an observation."

"Well, Patrick you are absolutely right this is my car. Shall we get in?"

He pushed the alarm button on the key fob, and opened the automatic locks.

"I was considering a BMW but this had less road noise. I like to do dictation in the car so I need a very quiet cabin."

"Where are we going?"

"I am going to take you to lunch, but since it isn't lunchtime for a couple of hours I thought we might take a field trip."

Jane felt a sense of dread. His mouth went dry.

"What do you mean a field trip? To where?"

"Patrick we are going to your house and you will show me where you live, so I can get a better understanding of who you are. It should please you, this way you don't have to answer any questions."

"Stop the car."

"Patr—"

"I said stop the car!"

"No, I am not stopping the car. You need to tell me why you are upset."

"I'm not upset, but I am sure as hell not letting you in my house."

"Really? That's a shame. I was thinking if you did, we could knock some more time off your court ordered requirement."

_You bastard…_

"How much time?"

Schein held back a smile of triumph.

"How about two days?"

"No how about _two weeks_ ?"

"Three days."

He was stuck, he wanted more time off but he knew Schein wouldn't budge past a week.

"Why don't we skip the negotiation and agree to the week you are holding out for?"

"No, not a week, but I will give you five days. That's my final offer. If you want to take it let me know now, because we are two blocks from your house."

Jane felt a sense of panic rising in his throat, but he quickly tamped it down.

_You can do this Jane, don't let him rattle you. After all Lisbon's been here._

"Whatever, but I expect an expensive lunch."

The car pulled in to the driveway of the beautiful house that once held all of Patrick Jane's hopes and dreams. Now it was his nightmare realm of recrimination and regret.

They got out of the car in silence, and walked up to the front door. Jane hesitated a look of fear on his face. Schein noticed him tense and became concerned.

_Maybe this isn't such a good idea, maybe it's too soon._

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"Certainly Dr. Schein. Isn't this what you wanted me to do?"

_He's stubborn as hell._

"Only if you think you can handle it."

Jane snorted at that.

"I assure you _Doctor_ I am not so fragile that I can't handle _you_…seeing my house."

_Touched a nerve._

"Good, I'm glad you are ready to do this. Shall we?"

Jane _ was _ nervous he brought his keys to the lock and opened the door.

"I live simply, I find I don't need material things anymore." He found himself explaining._ Stupid nerves._

Schein didn't respond but calmly observed Jane in the surroundings.

_Lisbon said I should see the kitchen… The bedroom and the kitchen…_

"May I have a drink of water?"

Jane eyed him suspiciously. "Come on in the kitchen."

He followed Jane into the kitchen; there was a little girl's sweater draped on the back of one of the chairs, and a child's drawing on the refrigerator; a happier moment frozen in time. Schein took it in as stealthily as possible, keeping all emotion from his face. Jane pulled a glass down from a cabinet next to the fridge, suddenly his face went white and the glass shattered on the floor. He grabbed one of the drawings from the fridge and clenched it in his hands.

"You BASTARD!"

Before Thomas could react, Jane pushed past him and was running up the stairs in seconds. Afraid for his patient he was right behind him .

At the top of the stairs Jane stopped and didn't move, as Schein came up he saw the horrific drawing that Red John left on the bedroom wall. He looked down and saw the mattress on the floor directly under its grisly visage.

_Oh God you poor, poor, man…_

Jane screamed in anger. "You fucking BASTARD!"

He ran to the closet and tore it up looking for something.

"Patrick what is it? What's wrong?"

Jane wheeled around, his face filled with cold rage and said, "Red John, has stolen the case files from me, and do you know who I blame for that?"

Schein backed up a step as he began to feel threatened by the menacing tone Jane had taken.

Jane walked past the frightened doctor, roughly pushing him against the wall on his way down the stairs. He kept walking, and walked right out the front door.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: This is for the sweet reader who begged me to update. Have no fear I will also be updating "Excedrin Headache Number Five" very soon I promise.

Disclaimer: Don't own Mentalist but I love the way its smells.

Read and Review !

* * *

Schein stood in the stairwell momentarily stunned. He was yanked from his reverie by the sound of a car starting. _His car_ starting.

"Oh Shit! Jane!" He ran to the front door just in time to see a very smug Jane pull away in his car.

_How did he get my keys? That asshole picked my pocket when he pushed me!_

He was pissed but couldn't help but find some admiration for Jane's skills. He reached into his pocket to call the CBI and talk with Lisbon, when the phone rang just as he was pulling the phone out.

"Hello Dr. Schein, I just wanted to say this car drives like a dream."

"Jane! JANE! Get you're a—"

Jane hung up, and laughed with pleasure. He was on his way back to the CBI, he needed Cho's help.

_I can't believe he was in my house…again. I don't know if I have it in me to keep playing this game. I could quit before he kills someone I care about again. _

Then he had an idea so epic it made him stop the car. He turned the car around and headed toward the newspaper building.

* * *

"I need to speak with Agent Lisbon, it's an emergency!" Grace winced at the panic in the doctor's voice.

"Lisbon."

"Agent Lisbon, Patrick has taken my car and left me at his house I need you to come and get me."

"I'm sorry to hear that Doctor, but Jane's pulls these stunts all the ti—Did you say you were at his _house_?" Now the panic was in her voice, whatever happened wasn't good, and they had to find Jane fast before he did something _really _stupid. She motioned to Cho and Rigsby and she strode quickly out the door towards the elevators.

"Yes, I think you understand the seriousness of the situation."

The three got off the elevator and headed to the black Yukon.

"Does this involve Red John in anyway?" Lisbon asked as Cho unlocked the doors and they all piled in.

Schein didn't know what to say without violating Patrick's privacy. He finally settled upon the fact that this was about Red John specifically and not really Patrick.

"Agent I don't know how to say this but Red John came to Patrick's house while he was in the hospital. He left a picture on the refrigerator and stole some files from Patrick's bedroom."

Lisbon paled and he stomach felt like it was trying to leap from her throat.

"What?" Rigsby asked.

"Where are you now Dr. Schein?"

"As I said I am in Patrick's house."

_Oh shit, shit, shit!_

"Dr. Schein I need you to walk out of the house quickly but calmly. If you see anyone or hear anyone you run like hell, do you understand me?"

_Oh my fucking God they think Red John is still here, that he is going to kill me._

"Are you still there Doctor?"

"Y-yes I'm walking to the front door now." He was scared shitless.

"We're almost there Dr. Schein, just keep your cool and stay with me."

"Okay. I'm opening the door and walking out side."

"Good we're pulling up now I can see you, I'm coming up the walk we have our guns drawn so don't be afraid." Lisbon and the boys jumped out guns in the down and ready.

The team's line of sight was temporarily obscured by a large hedge of hibiscus, when Lisbon heard a gasp and the sound of the phone falling to the ground. She bolted up the driveway followed by the men, only to see Dr. Schein standing on the porch white with fear and trembling. He was staring at something on the door. Lisbon felt a combination of fear, anger and relief; she knew what was tacked on Jane's door.

* * *

Patrick was single minded in his purpose, but he hadn't worked out the entire plan yet, he changed his mind about the paper it would come later right now he needed to lay low and ditch Schein's car. He drove around in for about an hour until he found the suitable bus stop for his needs. He parked the car, found a receipt Schein had dropped on the floor and wrote on the back . He locked up the car with the keys in it, knowing Schein could get Cho or somebody to get it open. He placed the note under the wiper blade and walked thru the nearby park to the bus stop. The young woman that was also waiting for the bus eyed him appreciatively; he offered her a kind smile and got on the bus without a word.

* * *

Thomas Schein had never felt such terror in his life, not even when he did a stint at Folsom as a psych rotation. He could feel his legs shaking, he was mildly concerned he may join his cell phone on the ground any second. He was mesmerized by the object hanging before him, his primitive brain screamed at him to run like hell, but his clinical mind was analyzing the whole situation. This dichotomy only served to keep him stunned and staring stupidly locked in terror. He couldn't move. Then someone touched him and he stumbled nearly passing out from fright. It was Agent Lisbon. His heart was pounding at a dangerously fast pace and making him light headed. He had to calm down. Lisbon's strong but feminine led him to the top step and commanded him to sit down.

"Dr. Schein, sit here for me okay."

The stricken man nodded, and sat down carefully, afraid his trembling limbs would cause him to fall.

Cho and Rigsby already had gloves on she took a pair out of her pocket and pulled them on. "I think we should leave it here and let the CSU check it out." She began appraising the situation and decided whom to delegate to the task of finding Jane. "Cho, get on the phone and have Grace locate the car with the Lo-jack , then I need you to find Jane as fast as you can the way he's been acting I have no idea what he'll do, but it will be bad."

"On it boss."

"Rigsby I want you to help secure the scene and keep the squints in line, I'm going to take the doctor to the ER. He doesn't look good, I think he's in shock."

Cho was already hanging up the phone with Grace. "Cho on second thought you stay with Rigsby, I don't want any of you alone and out in the field right now. After the CSU is done you can both go find Jane.

* * *

Somewhere hidden Red John smiled at the terrified doctor, was also happy to know Patrick had gone AWOL and was all alone.

_Ahhh Patrick you never fail to amuse me and keep me interested. I so look forward to seeing you when you're not asleep._


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Here's what was on the door. I just realized I never posted this! Sorry guys. A new chapter tomorrow.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own THE MENTALIST

Read and Review.

###################################################

_Dear Dr. Schein,_

_I am so pleased you have taken an interest in Patrick; to be frank I was beginning to worry about him. He is a bit dramatic at times isn't he? Nevertheless, if you are unable to keep him from harming himself, I am afraid I will be most displeased._

_Patrick and I have a unique friendship, I would hate to lose him to your incompetence, and I assure you the outcome for you would be very unpleasant. _

_By the way, I must agree with Patrick your car is quite impressive. However, your choice in music is atrocious. Fusion Jazz is an abomination._

_Your Friend,_

_Red John_


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Here's a wee update. Your appetites I know it will not sate, but this is what I've got to date.

NOT MINE

Whatcha think?

###################################################

Patrick Jane awoke in a seedy motel room; he had taken the bus away from where he left the car and found this place within walking distance to his house. It gave him a perfect vantage point for the plan he'd spent the night perfecting.

###################################################

Meanwhile the rest of the team was assembled in the bull pen along with discussing Jane's disappearance.

"Where do you think he is?"

"Eating pancakes at some diner."

"Yeah or sleeping on some leather couch."

Their laughter was grim and had a desperate edge to it.

"Look I know I haven't known Patrick long but I am certain he is holed up somewhere plotting the take down of Red John."

"No shit Sherlock." Cho muttered.

Van Pelt winced at the anger dripping from Cho's tone.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me agent Cho?"

"Yeah, what kind of idiot takes a guy who's losing it somewhere that is sure to set him off? Hell he hadn't even been home from the hospital yet. Did it ever occur to you that there was a reason he came here first?"

It was a valid point and Cho deserved an answer but he had to be mindful of Jane's privacy.

"Yes it had occurred to me, I assure you I never thought this would happen."

"That's just it, you didn't think." Rigsby chimed in.

"Okay wait a minute guys, there's no way he could have known about Red John." Grace's tone was conciliatory.

"Even if Red John didn't show up it was still a bad idea."

Schein was intrigued.

"Why do you say that agent Lisbon?"

"Because Jane keeps himself frozen in this surreal world where everything stays the way he found it that night, and he freaks whenever anyone comes in and sees it. It's like he has the moment of clarity and realizes it's a crazy way to live, which in turn makes him into a nervous wreck_. He hates it."_

"I see."

"Yeah well you're a little late on that insight Doc." Cho's tone was cold.

"Actually agent Cho I had an idea that this was the case which is why I chose to do it. Patrick's staying stuck and the ritual of his victimization serve to fuel his obsession for revenge. His anger is warranted, his quest righteous, therefore no one really challenges him about ending the obsession. You are all too close."

"Now wait a damn minute. I constantly challenge him on his _issues, _and_ everyone _here tries to keep his obsession with vengeance in check."

The room was filled with a tense silence. Cho and Rigsby refused to make eye contact with Lisbon.

"Are you sure about that agent Lisbon? It seems to me there may be those who agree with Patrick's thirst for _retribution._"

"Maybe." She gave Cho and Rigsby an appraising look. "But I am responsible for this team and they know there is no way in hell I am letting them go there."

Schein looked at her a moment before responding. "I have no doubt you are the voice of reason here, nor do I doubt your ability to keep your team reined in, however I think we can all agree that whatever hold you have over Patrick is tenuous at best, and unless Patrick chooses to let go of his fixation, short of either shooting him or incarcerating him you will not succeed."

There was unspoken agreement with him as they darted looks between on another.

Cho finally spoke for them all. "So what do you propose?"

A voice broke in before Dr. Schein could respond.

"_I_ propose you all relax and leave me alone."

There in all of his smug glory stood Patrick Jane looking for all the world like the cat who ate the canary. In a move so quick it was a blur Lisbon was across the room and gripping his arms.

"What the fuck Jane? You freak out and run off with Red John right outside your house without telling us where the hell you're going, what kind of bullshit is that?"

"I can tell by all the cursing you're upset Lisbon, but really, this is between the good doctor and me. So if you could excuse us I would appreciate it very much."


	15. Chapter 15

Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt left quickly and wordlessly. But Lisbon lingered, she glared at him with a mixture of ire and concern before stomping out of the room.

"Alone at last," Jane's characteristic sarcasm was back in place.

"Yeah… Shall we?" Schein pointed to the couch.

"Why not?"

"So? Did you happen to bring my car?"

"Uhh, no but I believe the Sac PD have it in their impound lot. Don't worry; I'll pay the fees."

Schein nodded absently. He didn't really care about his car right now; he was more focused on the man in front of him. Thomas found that slipping into his work persona was comforting and anchoring, in this otherwise insane and frightening situation.

"Look, Doc I'm sorry about all this. You shouldn't have to be involved, but anyone who gets too close to me ends up on Red John's radar."

Schein looked at Jane a moment, searching his face for answers. What he saw gave him concern.

"Patrick, are you okay?"

"I'm fine I just need some sleep."

"So what's next? I mean, I haven't dealt with a serial killer on the loose before."

Jane smiled. He was pleased with Schein's interest.

"I have a plan."

"Really? Why do I think that I'm not going to like whatever this plan is?"

"It's not important, I just wanted to make sure you were… you know?"

"What? Okay? You want to know whether I'm okay after a serial killer stalks me and the writes me a friendly note."

"Yes."

"Well Patrick I think I am as good as can be expected, How about you?"

A tense smile crossed Patrick's face.

"Me? Oh, fine. I _am_ used to being stalked and left notes by serial killers."

_You poor man, you really are, aren't you?_

"Yes, well, now what?"

"Now, we need to make sure you are safe. Lisbon—"He yelled.

Lisbon was back in the bullpen in seconds.

"What Jane?" She was still mad but the adrenalin was pumping, and she was ready for the chase.

"We need to get Dr. Schein a security detail and a safe house. But use only people we know."

Lisbon crossed her arms and gave Jane a look of disdain.

"What a great idea Jane."

He smiled warmly. "Thank you Lisbon."

"Yes, it such a great idea that I already did it four hours ago." She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, good. Why don't we get him out of here?"

"No."

Lisbon and Jane looked at Schein with surprise.

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean that I am staying. I need to be here agent Lisbon." He turned and gave Jane an earnest look, "You need me to be here."

"No, actually that's the last thing I need." Jane replied coldly.

"I wasn't talking to you Patrick."

Lisbon smirked as Dr. Schein put Jane in his place. Few people could pull that off.

"Fine with me Doc." Lisbon said.

"Lisbon! You can't be serious he's just going to slow us down and be in the way!"

"Agent, may I have a word?"

"Sure."

The two walked to Lisbon's office, leaving Jane standing there fuming.

In the office Lisbon sighed and said, "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean he's stubborn as hell and he's going to be a huge pain in the ass."

"I'm counting on it." Schein looked at her expectantly.

Lisbon thought for a moment before saying, "So you're trying to distract him? From what exactly? You know he won't back off of Red John."

"I am hoping to distract him from his need for self-destruction Agent Lisbon."

"And just how does your being here achieve that?"

"Well I'm hoping that he will be so aggravated by my presence that he will spend his energy trying to goad me or evade me. Either way he's preoccupied."

"I think you underestimate his ability to multitask." She said ruefully.

"Perhaps, but I also hope this time watching his process will afford me some insight and opportunities to help him."

"Alright, you can stay. I hope you know what you're getting into here."

"I have no clue, but I'm willing to try."

She nodded and said, "Fair enough."

###################################################

During the pow-wow in Lisbon's office Jane felt the weight of the irritated silence from his team who had returned, it made him more than a little uncomfortable, so he retreated to the kitchenette to make another cup of tea. It didn't work, because Grace followed him.

He acted as if he were absorbed in the ritual of making his tea and didn't notice the waves of anger emanating off the beautiful red head behind him.

"What the hell is wrong with you Jane?"

He turned and looked at her; the look was one of surprise. He found himself suddenly defensive and angry. "I should think that was obvious _Grace_." He said her name with sarcasm.

She laughed with disgust. "You are unbelievable."

"Why? I think I'm _quite_ believable."

"I can't figure out if you just don't know how to care about people, or you just don't care."

He looked at her with cold anger and replied softly, "I never asked for you to care, so probably the latter."

She stared at him with confusion for a moment, her face flushed with anger and her eyes stinging with hurt before saying, "I see", and walked out of the tiny room.

_Ah hell Patrick why'd you do that?_

He had the urge to go after her but his mind told him this was for the best; it would hurt her less in the long run if he broke their friendship irretrievably before the inevitable conclusion of the events to come. But in his heart he was aching to apologize and keep her unconditional love and friendship close. The whole scene made him sick and tea became the last thing he wanted. What he wanted was to run towards his ultimate destruction and end all of this pain. The question was how would he get around these people, who for some unknown reason seemed to care about him, without hurting them even more or placing them in danger? With Schein here it was going to be even harder to hide, he was as astute as Cho and Lisbon, and also called him on his bullshit. It was a challenge but Jane never shied from a challenge.


End file.
